Riddler and Penguin's Straight, Platonic, Totally Not-Gay Relationship
by stripesthetiger11
Summary: The nonromantic story of Edward and Oswald's totally straight, professional, platonic, hetero, not-gay relationship and how it nearly got Edward sent to prison. This is probably the gayest thing I've ever written.


"Alright, another one," Edward gave in, his voice exasperated despite the smugness of his features. "This one is so easy, even a layman like _you_ should be able to figure it out."

Garfield seemed unaffected by the insult, rubbing his palms together as he began to do mental stretches in preparation for the exercise Nygma was about to put his brain through. "Alright, hit me. I'll get this one for sure."

"You own thousands of me, and yet I never take up space. I can be unpleasant or a joy and you can use me in any time and any place. I'm created within seconds always in unique design, and soon you will be one of me and we will last a lifetime," Riddler recited with ease, crossing his arms with a smirk at Garfield's expression twisted in concentration.

"Ah, I thought you said it would be easy," Firefly mutter, eyes wandering slowly around the rec rook for any sort of hint or inspiration to help him solve the enigma. "Uhhh…." Had he not burned away all his sweat glands, he probably would have been sweating after all the pressure put on by Nygma. "Is it…" He spoke slowly, eyes narrowed in unsure concentration as he felt he might have had the answer. "… a bug?"

Edward stared silently, a brow arched in silent contempt. When his hands came up to slowly cover his face to stifle his sighs, it was evident that insects were not the right answer. He slowly dragged his palms down and gazed just above his fingers to stare at Garfield. "Well I suppose I can't blame you. Some people are just born with the inability to use proper cognitive functions." He clapped his hands together, taking in a deep and steady inhale through his nose. "However, I have yet to completely give up on you, so we shall do just one more." He leaned in closer, stare turning serious as he spoke slowly and annunciating each word as if he were speaking to an infant. "The more I dry, the more wet I become. What am I?"

Firefly stared blankly. "Can I phone a friend?" This elicited a sudden facepalm from the other man, who just sighed in defeat and nodded. Immediately Garfield turned around in his chair to look back at another fellow inmate. "Hey Jerv! What gets drier the more it gets wet?"

"No you buffoon, it's the other way around!" Edward snapped, slamming his arm as a scolding a remark. Jervis Tetch had his head snap up in light surprise, eyes wide until he realized it was only the Dormouse and his stories. He tittered gently, thinking for a moment before answering, "I believe the answer you seek is a towel, Mr. Lynns."

"It's a towel. Easy," Garfield answered as he turned back to face Edward, who was pinching the bridge of his nose with closed eyes in show of defeat. Nothing was said as it was clear Edward needed a few moments.

Outside of their silent little bubble, the commotion of the room suppressed their noise and it seemed as though it would be near impossible to get this group of chatting, playing, laughing inmates to ever be silent. However, that was not the case when the entrance to the room opened up and an officer made his way inc. "Edward Nygma?" the guard announced, a quiet hush coming over the room as everyone turned to look at the Riddler in question. Edward made a slight turn of his head to show he was listening. "You have a visitor," the man of authority told him, waiting patiently by the door. Nygma nodded, but held up a finger to let it be known that he needed a minute.

"Lynns," Nygma said finally, setting his hand down and looking at the pyromaniac with a relaxed expression. "Your level of stupidity is near unfathomable." In took in a steady breath. "Let's imagine I pack up all your idiocy into, say, a baseball, and I dropped that baseball off of the roof Wayne Tower. Because of how dense that baseball is, Lynns, the moment it would strike the ground, the earth below it would give way and crumble as the entire planet would cave in on itself and implode like a neutron star."

Garfield blinked slowly, showing a reaction of bewilderment and light amusement that broke through. "Is… this a riddle?" he then asked, much to Edward's disbelief. "Is this were you ask me how you were able to get the baseball up the tower if it was so heavy?"

"No, Garfield, it was not a riddle," Edward muttered, now seemingly done with all of this. "But make no mistake, for I myself am an enigma. You should never assume anything about me because it's blatantly clear you could never figure me out even if you used every brain cell trapped under that thick skull of yours. I will always be one step ahead of you, and you're a fool to ever think otherwise. I know that for a fact that should I ever need to deceive you, it would take little to no effort whatsoever as you wouldn't even know you were stuck in one of my brainteasers until it was too late." He smirked, coming to a stand. "Always be wary, Garfield. It could happen at any time."

Bringing himself over to the guard with a straightened posture, he gave a smile full of contempt as he agreed to leave to see this visitor that he had not been expecting beforehand. He didn't need to ask any questions as he already knew who it would be out of the many citizens in Gotham; no doubt Jim Gordon would be there, waiting with an expression screwed in confusion and bewilderment, begging the Riddler for help in a case that was simply too challenging for such a dullard. So he walked with pride and confidence in each step as they moved to one of the many visiting rooms. The door was opened, and there Nygma got a small surprise as he was ushered in.

He was seated across a woman he didn't know dressed in a crisp suit jacket and skirt, black hair braided and draped over her shoulder. She had several files in front of her, and the expression on her face read that she would rather be anywhere than at Arkham Asylum at the moment. "Well hello," Edward greeted, sitting down and waving to the guards as they left. "No notepad or recording device, so you're not a reporter. May I ask why you're wasting my time?"

The woman was quick to speak, nodding as she quickly began shuffling through the files. "Good morning, Mr. Nygma, I'll make this quick. My name is Trisha Khatri. I'm your assigned public defender."

Any respectful façade Edward had previously held up was thrown out the window as he let out an annoyed groan. "How many times do I have to tell you idiots?" he spat, arms crossed in an almost childish show of defiance. "No lawyer is capable of defending me, and so I've chosen to do it myself. Now that we have discussed everything, I shall leave."

"You were found not competent to defend yourself in court due to your prior insanity pleas, and so that's why I'm here," Khatri sighed, ignoring the sharp glare he threw her way at the suggestion of him being incompetent. "A new charge has been thrown your way and so I have you brief you on it while preparing our case for trial."

"A new one?" Edward scoffed, standing up with both palms flat on the table and tight frown. "Unbelievable. What could they have gotten me for this time? Littering? I am cleared of all charges because I've pled insanity and that's the end of it. They can't charge me for anything else!"

Khatri found the paper she was looking for and slid it over, allowing Edward to take a gander at what was being put on his head. "This is a bit different, I'm afraid," she sighed, shuffling through more papers before grabbing her laptop. "You're being charged with illegal arms dealing. They're going to reexamine your plea of insanity, and if you're found guilty, you could be going to Blackgate." Edward's confusion turned to full on astonishment as he skimmed the paper, searching for an answer that was hidden somewhere in the page.

"Arms dealing?" he near exclaimed, taking his eyes off the paper for only a moment to shoot a bewildered glare at her. "That's absurd! Never have I been involved in selling weapons of any kind? They seriously think I, the Riddler, would be interested in petty profit off of a few guns? Please, that's more of Penguin's fort— why is Oswald's name on this paper?"

Oswald Cobblepot; there was no mistaking that name, typed clearly in the third passage on the back of the page. He tried to read back and get the full context, but then it clicked. "Wait. This sounds like I'm being accused of conspiracy." He looked up, watching Trisha slide the paper back to herself and open her laptop. "It pains me to say that I hardly understand! Is this because Oswald and I have a mutual understanding? We've aided each other in several things, but arms dealing was never my cup of tea, while he is more than happy to get involved in it."

"They were going to charge you with conspiracy to overthrow some public officials, which Mr. Cobblepot has already been charged with, but they found this to be a far easier charge to pursue with great amounts of circumstantial evidence," Trisha informed, starting her computer and going to find a file. She paused, giving him a uncomfortable and tentative look. "Nygma… you may want to sit down for this." Edward cocked a brow, but sat down, already hearing his blood pumping in his ears. Khatri swallowed, avoiding her gaze. "Can you… tell me what you're relationship is with Mr. Cobblepot?"

Nygma didn't quite understand the change in tone, finding it standard given the situation. "We're on and off partners." Nygma was looking to the side, missing the way Trisha's brow shot up in clear surprise. "Partners in crime, if you will," he elaborated. The defender's expression relaxed into one of embarrassment as she delved back into the filer. "We assist each other in monetary issues and share secrets of the trade and simply help one another out. Yes, we've worked together a few times, but he knows I have no such interest in crime solely for profit. If one were to crane their necks and squint, they could even call us friends." He grimaced, looking at the public defender. "I suppose these idiotic prosecutors believe I've been working with him once more?"

Khatri found what she was looking for, taking in a deep breath. "Well… somewhat," she explained, looking up. "A while back, Mr. Cobblepot had been dealing arms illegally, which is the charge you now have. It was proven he had a silent partner in it all, but said partner could never be identified. It was believed that it was Mr. Dent who was the one supplying weapons, but it could never be proven given he has a confirmed, albeit shady, alibi for most of the events taking place." Edward said nothing, already seeing where this was heading. "So they turned their attention to you. They had little to no reason to bring you in until the media started getting involved about a month ago. A few calls were made to some stations, giving anonymous tips—"

"Anonymous tips can't be used in court," Edward snapped.

"They can't, but the—" she stopped, reading over something and clearing her throat, deciding to skip over the section "—_interesting _tips given were enough to relight interest in the investigation—"

"No! Read them to me! I need to know what these cowards said with no substantial evidence whatsoever," Edward demanded. "Why the hell would _anyone, _let alone the _GCPD_, go about taking random, insignificant tips with little proof? They see the both of us together and they think I'm a silent partner and charge me? There must be something I'm missing."

Khatri stopped, letting out a steady sigh before locking her fingers and giving him a serious look. "Mr. Nygma. They believe you are in the middle of a homosexual romantic relationship with Mr. Cobblepot."

Nygma stared, wide-eyed in disbelief as his jaw hit the floor.

The defender quickly got back to her laptop, looking over the comments made. "Several dozen anonymous tips were made to various news stations. Comments such as 'They're always together. There is no way they're not fucking,' and 'Eddie is definitely a top' and 'On April 19th I saw the Riddler sucking Penguin's dick harder than my wife sucks the fun out of everything else', as well as—"

"STOP!" Edward finally gave in, covering his ears. "I get it! I regret asking!"

"That's not all," Khatri said, moving to another file on her computer. "Numerous sightings say that you were spotted within the Iceberg lounge more than any other infamous patron and it's only fueled speculation that your relationship only goes beyond friendship. As well as… these." She finally turned the device around, allowing Edward to see what she had on screen. It was a website seemingly filled to the brim with what he initially thought were articles, given that the site apparently let them see the first twenty of what was apparently three thousand one hundred fifty-five works. Brow furrowed, he went about reading the description of the first one aloud. "'A Clean Getaway. Riddler leads Penguin through an unconventional escape after a heist but they then find themselves stuck in an awkward situation.' It has body positivity, first kiss, love confessions, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nyg—"

His mouth slammed shut, face red as it soon dawned on him just what he was looking at. His cheeks heated, his mouth was agape as he struggled to form sentences, and a dry noise escaped him as ever gear in his head spun faster than a spinning top. Finally, he looked at her and took a sharp inhale.

In the next second, prisoners stopped their loud ranting, crows were frightened out of their trees in giant flocks, glass cracked, and the ice around Mr. Freeze's cell wavered as the only thing that was heard throughout the asylum was "THIS IS _FANFICTION_!"

"I know I know! This fiction only shifted the court of public opinion, however, and so now many people not only think you're gay, but _want _you to be gay." Khatri hissed, slamming the device shut and putting it to the side, ignoring the seething yet completely embarrassed face of Edward Nygma. "But this is an easy case! To back up their claims, they would need to prove a romantic relationship. You aren't in one with him, right?"

Edward sputtered in disbelief, his voice far beyond an outside level as he said, "What? How could you even— No! There never has and there never will be!"

"Good!" his lawyer nodded, showing him the other important papers stored in the files. "Then this will be open and shut. This is a case mainly focusing on witness testimony and character witnesses, and so you should be in the clear if you were never in a relationship with Mr. Cobblepot. Witnesses should not be able to make a connection if there was none in the first place." She tucked her files away. "Don't worry, I'll handle everything."

"That's why I'm worrying," Edward whispered, terrified deep inside.

"I'll gather the witnesses and we'll prove our case," she stated, gathering her things, "however, it's important that you do your part and look as innocent as possible, alright? I'm just going to need a few of your social media passwords to make sure everything is clean."

Edward couldn't believe this was happening, but nodded, and complied by reluctantly writing down the account information for his Facebook, Myspace, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, Archive of Our Own, Youtube, and Tumblr. This took a good ten minutes, by the way.

Khatri had stored most of her files away by this time, carrying everything tucked to her chest as she took the paper from him. "Oh! Almost forgot," she said quickly, pushing her chair in. "I need you to brief your peers in the Asylum on this." Yeah, not happening. "Seeing as you're close, I also need you to call Oswald himself and ask that he be a character witness in this case."

Edward paused as he was standing up, looking at her as though he didn't quite hear her. "I'm sorry, I need to what?"

* * *

"That sounds… interesting," Jervis hummed, legs crossed on the bench as he listened to Edward's recounting of what had happened. Nygma had his face buried in his hands as he sat at the edge of the exercise yard, not saying a word as he just wallowed in his humiliating. Tetch was the only one to know after his talk with his public defender, and the smaller man had been made to swear he wouldn't tell anyone of what had happened. With a tired sigh, he muttered, "And soon everyone will be able to see a trial about it on TV, no doubt."

Jervis frowned, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Now now, Edward, no need to get so down on yourself!" he spoke, attempting to uplift his friend with his cheerful demeanor. "You're the man who showed Gotham you were the most intelligent gentleman within its borders. I'm positive this can only go well for you. How hard could it be to convince Gotham's court that you're a straight, respectable gentleman who has had the misfortune of being the center of some unintelligible poppycock? Everyone will know it was a misunderstanding!"

Edward lifted his face from his hands, a smile twitching on his face. "You're right," he smiled, lifting his head up high. "You're absolutely right. What was I thinking?" He put a hand to his chest proudly. "I am the Riddler! The most cunning man in Gotham and Batman's archenemy!" He scoffed, coming to a stand. Jervis stood with him, looking up at him with a proud smile. "If anyone can show this unenlightened rathole of a city what is truly fact, it's me." He took a moment to rub his chin, thinking about the case before him. "I have nothing to worry about, as there is near mountains of evidence to support my side of this ridiculous scandal." He then gestured to himself as if putting himself on display. "After all, have you seen how I dress? One should at least have a bit of style and look nice when defeating the Dark Knight."

Jervis's expression fell slightly and his next words donned an uncharacteristically sarcastic tone. "Oh, yes, of course, because queer people don't dress nice, hmm?"

Nygma stopped, mentally scolding himself as his visage shifted to a grimace. "Damn. You're right. Gay people dress even nicer than me. I mean, look at you!"

* * *

Oswald Cobblepot looked up disinterestedly as he was handed the receiver of the telephone. "Whomever could it be?" he sighed, looking down at the receiver before glancing at the Blackgate guard.

"It's a call from Arkham Asylum," the officer informed him, taking a step back and away so Oswald could have some privacy. "Just remember you have fifteen minutes."

Oswald was visibly surprised at the revelation and didn't let a second go to waste as the phone was put to his ear. "Good day. May I ask just whom I am speaking to?"

There was no answer. Oswald furrowed his brow, bringing the phone away to look at it oddly before bringing it back to his ear. "Hello?" When there was only more silence, his patience began to wane. "I'm hanging up."

"No. Oz. It's me," said a tired voice on the other end.

Oswald recognized the voice immediately, a small smile coming to his face. "Ah! Edward! How amiable of you to give me a call. Is there anything that you need?" His expression turned sour, glancing around. "Not that I can do much within Blackgate's walls."

"I need…" Edward audibly sighed on the other end, causing his friend to frown deeply at the sound. He let him have a moment, knowing something had gone wrong. Unlike Arkham, however, Oswald only had fourteen or so minutes before he was ushered back, so he couldn't be too generous with his time. Fortunately enough, Edward soon answered. "I have a court case." Something in his voice seemed unfamiliar, but somewhat identifiable. "And I need you to testify as a character witness that we are indeed not in a queer romance with one another."

Oswald was finally able to recognize the emotions behind the phone. Humiliation, no doubt. He could only picture Edward sitting by the phone with his face buried in his hand in clear embarrassment and reluctance to even speak. Cobblepot's cheeks were dusted with a soft red tint as he struggled to process the words. However, he soon found himself feigning a humored laugh. "Oh Edward, what a card you are! Is this one of your riddles?"

"Unfortunately, it is not."

Oswald's face fell, and soon commenced a slow, ten minute explanation of Nygma conundrum. By this time the Penguin was well aware his his face was a bright pink simply from the strange look the guard was giving him. Edward finished his little tale with silence, leaving only one question hanging in the air. After a good minute of silence, Penguin cleared his throat. "Edward, my good friend, I will gladly testify to dispel these rumors. You can count on me."

A sigh of relief was heard on the other end. "Thank you, Oswald," Riddler sighed. "You're a lifesaver. Without you I wouldn't know what to do."

"Without me you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Not exactly. They probably would have shipped me with Crane."

Oswald arched a brow. "Shipped?"

"It's internet lingo. Don't worry about it."

"Ah."

The guard signaled he only had another minute left. "I must really get going, my friend," Oswald spoke politely.

"Ah, I understand," Nygma responded. "Well good— wha—Joke— JOKER WHAT ARE YOU— gah!" The sounds of struggling was clearly evident as the phone was pried from Edward's hands.

"Hey Ozzy!" came the familiar voice of the Joker. "I'll give you a hundred grand if you admit you fucked Edward in front of the whole court!" A struggle ensued and soon the line went dead. Oswald liked to think they hung up, but it was more likely that the receiver was ripped out of the wall. When he had hung up, he followed the officer to the cafeteria, where lunch had started during their conversation. Seeing that everyone was sitting down, Cobblepot huffed, knowing he wouldn't have time to grab food and eat when prison only gave you ten minutes to do both. Disappointed, but not letting it get to him, he moved over to the Rogues' table, so designated by said criminals.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," Penguin greeted with a hum, sitting beside Bane at the end of the table and creating a rather humorous juxtaposition given their immense size difference.

"Hey," Floyd Lawton greeted curtly, shoveling food into his mouth. While it seemed uncouth to the likes of Penguin, it was really necessary when you were so tight on time to eat. Slade Wilson only grunted as his hello, running a hand through his gray hair as he'd waited for the period to be over. He had already finished his food, as had Bane, who seemed rather interested in Penguin at the moment.

"Your face," he commented after a minute, catching the other three's attention. Bane's expression was unreadable under the mask he always wore, which was permitted to him for being an essential part to the venom pack he was forced to wear, lest he die of withdrawal. Slade looked over at Penguin, noticing it as well. "Well, Oswald, what happened?"

Oswald felt as though Joker had drawn on his face again in permanent marker; self-conscious and not exactly knowing why everyone was staring at you. "I'm afraid I'm unsure of what you're referring to."

"You're red in the face," Bane clarified with an amused chuckle. "Red and plump; you quite remind me of a bell pepper, Pingüino."

Oswald gave a rather displeased glare, ignoring how Deadshot stifled a laugh. "Yes, I suppose I'm a tad heated," he admitted, feeling his own cheeks to get a measure on their warmth. He looked at their prying eyes, and soon enough gave in with a sigh. "Fine. I suppose it's better you hear this from me than the news," he huffed, deciding to make it quick. "Prosecutors are accusing Riddler of having a hand in my arms dealing because they believe he and I are in an, ahem, _intimate _relationship. I am to act as a character witness to say that we are indeed not together."

The three were silent, only broken when Slade whistled loudly and looked away. "Well. Wasn't expecting that," he spoke slowly. To this Deadshot snorted with laughter, nearly coughing up the food he had shoveled into his mouth. Oswald looked away with a tight-lipped frown, preferring to keep a look at Bane, who was more stolid than his more trigger-happy peer. Even still, Oswald felt his cheeks heat from the embarrassment of it all.

"If it makes you feel any better," Deathstroke mentioned disinterestedly, catching the other's attention, "if we're called as character witnesses, we'll be sure to defend you and your Riddle friend."

Penguin let it show he was quite caught off guard, but let a small smile break his expression. "Well, I quite appreciate the sentiment, but I'm afraid such aid will be futile. If anything, Joker will find a way to ruin this all for Mr. Nygma," he spoke, already smelling trouble brewing with the clown. "He stole the phone away from Riddler, saying he'd offer me a hundred grand if I betrayed my friend and admitted I was intimate with him in front of the entire courthouse." He gave a roll of his eyes to further emphasize the ridiculous nature of this entire situation.

Deadshot took a moment to swallow his food. "Sweet. What're you going to do with the money?"

* * *

"Down the hall."

"Mmhmm."

"You'll see a portrait of Julius Caesar."

"I see it. Why is there a random butcher knife on the floor?"

"That's a part of the riddle, straw-for-brains!"

Scarecrow rolled his eyes from under his mask, keeping the phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear as he bent down and quickly snagged the knife. Scanning over the painting, he noticed a small slit in the canvas where Caesar's stomach was and quickly got the idea. With little hesitation the villain jammed the blade into the former emperor's stomach and twisted it after a few silent moments. A click was heard, and soon enough the bookshelf a ways away slowly slid out of the way to reveal a door in the wall.

"Ah. How… needlessly complicated," Jonathan muttered, approaching the doorway and ignoring the incarcerated Edward telling him it took him long enough. He grabbed the handle and jiggled it, but it was locked. That's when he saw the number pad beside the door. "There's a number pad. What's the code?"

"Ah! This one is easy."

"Nygma."

"First, you need to look through the bookshelf and skim through the many books to find the pages that have been dog eared."

"Nygma."

"Then you rearrange those numbers in a specific order— one which I will not tell you as it will ruin the—"

"NYGMA TELL ME THE CODE!" Scarecrow snapped.

"Fine! Be a stick in the mud! 5683490!" Nygma yelled back, and with that Scarecrow quickly punched it in, the door opening automatically allowing him to pass into the Riddler's hideout. He switched on the lights, noticing thankfully that no one was there. Query and Echo had been arrested the same time Edward had been and were now residing in Blackgate, unfortunately, but Scarecrow was glad he could deal with this with little to no problems. After a bit of gazing around, he spotted the computer Edward had cherished so much.

"Found it." Sitting in the chair and scooting himself to get comfortable, Jonathan was about to start up the computer when he noticed a small penguin plush on the desk. He blinked, brow furrowed.

"Is something wrong?" Riddler asked on the other end. "I don't have much time. Guards will get suspicious."

"Er, no," Scarecrow shook his head, starting up the computer. He was quickly greeted by the usual username and password screen. "It's asking for login information." When he was met by silence, he narrowed his eyes. "It's another riddle, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but since you're so insistent on not going through with them, I'll simply give you the information. Ready?"Riddler gave in. Jonathan made a noise of confirmation and readied his hands on the keyboard. "Username: prince of puzzles. Underscore for each space. No capitals." Scarecrow paused, but just shook his head and entered it in. "Password: Oswald Cobblepot." Jonathan stopped, letting out a small "'scuse me?" in surprise, but it went unnoticed. "A 0 for each 'o', capitalize the 'C', and add an underscore."

Jonathan hesitated in asking if it was a joke, instead entering it in as instructed. Unfortunately, he was granted access. As he waited for the computer to load him to the desktop, he cleared his throat, a few words in mind for his peer. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"As your peer and frequent partner and as someone who subjected you to unholy amounts of fear gas in our past ventures, you know you can trust me, right?"

"Oh of course."

"Good," Jonathan nodded, letting out a steady exhale. "Now, I want you to be honest with me. Are you or have you ever been in a relationship with the Penguin?"

To this, Riddler sounded almost offended on the other side of the call. "Excuse me? I've told you once and I'll say it a million times over— I have never once been infatuated with Oswald Cobblepot."

Jonathan watched the monitor welcome him in, allowing him to see a collage of various pictures of Oswald Cobblepot as the desktop background. "Uh huh…" he replied

Slowly, going to the computer's saved picture album.

"Oswald and I are nothing more than acquaintances," Riddler continued. "We work together and that is the minimal extent to which our partnership lies. The only 'relationship' we have is purely platonic, straight, and criminally motivated."

"I can see that," Jonathan agreed, scrolling through the dozens of pictures of Edward and Oswald together, whether it be with selfies or them having dinner together to just hanging around the iceberg lounge. He noticed a tab open on the bar at the bottom of the screen and clicked it to see what Edward could have looked up.

"The fact that you would even _consider _such a concept shows a severe lack of trust and an insult to my priorities as a nemesis to the Dark Knight," Edward spat. "Honestly. What were you thinking?"

"Who knows?" Jonathan muttered, staring at the screen as he scrolled down Edward's Tumblr feed to see it was all filled with blogs dedicated to either Riddler or Oswald or both. He saw a tab open and decided not to click it and instead just close it out. "Maybe I'm just stupid?"

Edward audibly snickered on the other end. "Ha, that's the most logical statement I've ever heard you say, Jonathan. No matter, there is a job to be done. Gotham's judicial system is corrupt in almost every way and will undoubtedly find each meaningless scrap to use as 'evidence', so I need you to delete almost anything on my computer or social media that even _hints _that Oswald and I might be close."

Scarecrow took a moment to stare blankly at the screen. "Well. It seems that I have a lot of work to do," he murmured. Without another word, he went to the files and saw the downloaded videos, going to check those out.

Edward was surprised by this statement. "Really? Hmm. I must have a couple more pictures than I originally thought." There was a pause as someone else spoke in the background. "Damn it. A guard. Just make sure you're thorough and quick. I don't want you on my computer longer than you have to be."

"Trying," Jonathan replied with a sigh, scrolling down the files. "Currently scrolling through all your gay porn so it may be a while."

* * *

Weeks would go by until the court date. Edward could barely sleep the entire time, kept awake by what ifs and all the ways the day could go awry. He kept in close contact with his public defender, getting any and all information he could, but at the same time, not exactly wanting to know about it. Having some incompetent moron defend him in court was more than insulting; to think that he, the Riddler, wasn't fit to defend himself was ludicrous by definition.

One question that would not stop coming up to him was "Have you told the other rogues about this case?" Time and time again, his answer was always "I've told Jervis" (it wasn't technically a lie), and it would only lead to his lawyer telling him to go about telling his peers. Yeah, like that would happen. No one else needed to know about this case other than those who were essential to it. Jervis was just there for support, of course. At least, that's what he believed up until the day of the case.

Taken out of his cell and led out by guards, Khatri made sure to stay with him as they walked outside and to the vehicle that would take him to the courthouse. "So you told your peers, right?" Trisha asked, only getting a small "mmm" from Edward. "Good," she nodded, mistakingly taking the response as positive and letting out a sigh of relief. "This should go over easy."

As they slowed to a stop, Nygma noticed they had stopped in front of a typical prison bus used to transport dangerous inmates. "A bit excessive for one criminal, don't you think?" Edward asked, brow raised as the doors were opened for him. A guard smirked as he ushered him into the bus, saying, "What? We can't leave without all your witnesses." Horror dawned on Nygma as he slowly ascended the steps onto the bus, hearing familiar chattering that stilled his soul.

"Hiya, Eddie!" Harley grinned and waved from her seat, kicking her legs while humming next to a grumpy Poison Ivy. Joker looked back in his seat at Edward at the noise, a snarky grin spreading over his own face. "Ah, how're you doing, sport?" he greeted, patting the seat beside him. "We're your character witnesses! Come on, sit down! Something tells me this is going to be a very _funny _court hearing!"

Edward was petrified. Jervis, Joker, Harley, Pamela, and Garfield were all on the bus, chatting away and clearly not having a clue as to why they were testifying with the exception of Jervis. No doubt they all jumped at the opportunity without a thought without asking what it was about just to get outside of Arkham. They would all be testifying for _him_. About his relationship with _Oswald_. This was why his public defender stressed that he tell his peers, _and he never did it._ He wanted a trap door to open up under him and he didn't care what would be under it.

Slowly he took a seat by Jervis, who immediately began chatting him up merrily even though Edward wasn't listening. "As promised, I never told a soul!" Tetch hummed, proud he didn't let such an important topic slip. "Not that it mattered— we're all going there, anyhow!" Edward just lowered his head onto the back of the seat in front of him, realizing just how fucked he was.

* * *

"Alright, I require your name, alias, and occupation," the judge spoke, watching Edward seat himself politely on the witness stand.

"Oswald Cobblepot; The Penguin; I run business at the Iceberg Lounge," Oswald spoke clearly, projecting his voice for all to hear. Without skipping a beat, the prosecutor, a lanky but gruff looking fellow, loudly cleared his throat. Cobblepot refrained from rolling his eyes, letting out a small huff as he leaned rolled up the sleeves on his prison uniform. "I also happen to be a professional felon," he added, much to his own distaste. It wasn't like anyone didn't know; it only poured salt into the wound to have him state aloud his crimes.

Edward had only just finished his interrogation, grabbing a rag to wipe the sweat off of his head. Khatri gave him a reassuring look, but he merely waved her gaze away. With all the cameras and fangirls (and occasionally fanboys) in the courtroom were all the eyes on him that he needed at the moment. Sure, he enjoyed the spotlight, but usually when he was in command of the situation and wasn't in a courtroom debating over his sexuality. All the other criminals were currently outside, as they were considered to dangerous to be kept in a single room, so they would be brought in one by one.

The public defender stood up and moved over to the center of the courtroom, turning her attention to Oswald, who looked prim and proper even while in his Blackgate uniform. "Mr. Cobblepot?" Oswald inclined his head ever so slightly to show he was paying attention, adjust his monocle to properly see her better. "Could you please explain your relationship with the defendant, Edward Nygma?"

Oswald looked over at Edward for a small moment, smiling at him reassuringly, a gesture that for a second had Edward rethinking all his doubts. It was odd how Penguin could be so calm during the situation, but that was something Nygma had chalked up to Cobblepot being too posh to panic. To the contrary, however, it seemed that Oswald just genuinely believed this would all blow over. He always was one to fuss over his own image and stay out of the spotlight in favor of doting over birds and looking over his very illegal dealings, but it appeared that humiliation wasn't a weakness on his part, unlike his friend in green.

"Edward and I can be considered friends," Oswald answered politely. "We work together from time to time. All our work is mutually beneficial for the sake of helping one another achieve their goals while chipping at ours at the same time."

Trisha nodded, moving onto the next question. "Does the defendant have anything to do with the unnamed and unindicted partner in your arms dealing?" To this Oswald gave a quick "Certainly not." He paused for a moment, fixing the collar of his uniform; one could compare it to a penguin ruffling its own feathers. He continued with, "Edward hardly has any interest in the more economically profitable form of deviancy. As previously stated, our dealings are purely mutually beneficial."

Trisha gave a nod of understanding, moving onto her last question, and the one that was on the minds of the entire courtroom. "Do you have any romantic or sexual relationship with the defendant?"

Now, Edward wasn't an easily phased man when it came to the inflictions on his own character when it didn't involve his mind, but the way Oswald's expression instinctually scrunched up in disgust had him a tad self-conscious. Penguin couldn't judge, given his short stature and thick physique.

"Trust me, my dear," Cobblepot spoke, a bit more weight put into his voice as he sent the point home, "there is _nothing _intimate going on between me and Edward. I have no interest whatsoever."

With that, the lawyer's questions were finished and he was allowed out of the room with the accompaniment of some guards. Murmurs of doubt swept through the courtroom. Edward couldn't help but feel a little offended, but focusing on the real matter at hand, he felt assured that it could really go up from here, especially when more character witnesses from Blackgate were brought to the stand. Each one was adamant about never seeing a hint of a relationship between the two villains; Deadshot was a little insulting ("With Ed? God no. I doubt Ozzy could last five minutes alone with the nerd before all his fucking talking drives him into hiring me to put him out of his misery."), Deathstroke was more logical, but still as insulting ("If there really was anything going on between the two, we'd see riddles about it everywhere because Nygma can't keep a secret to save his life."), and Bane was thankfully straightforward ("Aside from crime, Oswald has always been a straight-laced and unassuming man. This is not of his nature."). Edward couldn't help but grin at the shifting mood of the room. The Court of Public Opinion seemed to finally be turning some. While there would always be diehard fangirls and their fanfiction accounts, Nygma felt sure that the more logical (only slightly so) of the court recognized what the media had inflated.

And then came the Arkham inmates.

First up was Poison Ivy.

The judge settled into his seat, looking over at the feared villainess. "Before we start, I will need your full name, alias, and occupation," he told her, getting a rather sharp roll of the eyes from Pamela. Nonetheless, she still made sure her voice was clear as she answered "Pamela Isely, Poison Ivy, ecoterrorist."

Khatri went up to begin questioning, not noticing the sweat accumulating anew on Edward's forehead. "Miss Isely," she began, "We're going to make this simple; do you think the defendant, Edward Nygma, is gay?" Poison Ivy didn't say anything at first, only giving a blank stare. "Do I think Edward Nygma is gay?" she parroted back, leaning back in her chair and turning her gaze up to the ceiling. "Hmm." The silence was deafening until she finally turned her gaze back to them. "I think Edward is gay in the same way I 'think' the Earth is round."

Khatri now felt the sweat form on her own head at this answer as she realized this was a mistake. Still, she tried to salvage the situation as the murmurs died down. "So… you believe in the flat earth theory?"

If looks could kill, the lawyer would have been shot into the sun with the combined glare of the plant woman and her own client. Poison Ivy slowly narrowed her eyes, pointing a warning finger at her. "You see? This is why I'm going to eradicate humanity." Ivy had to be forcefully removed from the room.

Then Jervis came to the stand. This should go over well; after all, he was Edward's friend.

"My name is Jervis Tetch, my alias is Mad Hatter, and my occupation is professional haberdasher… and criminal," he spoke to the judge, leaning back to idly kick his legs back and forth merrily. "Mr. Tetch," Khatri began as she did with Ivy, "do you believe there is anything going on between Edward and Oswald?"

Tetch let out a curt and jovial "Ha!", delving into a soft titter as he wiped near tears of laughter from his eyes. "Between Mr. Nygma and Mr. Cobblepot? Oh no no no no, heavens no my dear! Insinuating that our dear Dormouse has a fancy for the Dodo would be akin to saying that I have a fancy for the Batman!"

There was a moment where everyone in the courtroom had to look around in visible confusion. "So… none at all?" the lawyer asked, a question that brought about an unreadable stare from the witness. "Sure," Jervis said abruptly.

Then came Joker.

"Name, alias, and occupation?" asked the judge.

"Joker, Joker, and Joker," Joker answered, ending it with a little chortle at his own humor.

The prosecutor gave an incredulous look, interrupting with, "Your honor, the defendant needs to give his real name for his testimony to be valid."

"Well it's not like it'll be real if I give you a name," Joker sneered, grinning cockily down at Edward all the while.

"Could you at least give us a name and we'll put it down on record?" the judge offered.

"Fine," Joker acquiesced. "Put me down as Betty Cooper." And so Betty Cooper's testimony was written into the records.

Khatri already knew this wasn't going to end well. "What do you know of Edward Nygma's intimate relationships?"

"More than I need to," Betty scoffed, crossing his arms in a casual manner. "I know he keeps a few condoms in his wallet, so that's a thing." For a moment, a wave of relief swept through Edward as the sounds of fangirl hearts everywhere broke with the destruction of their ship. Of all people, who would have thought it would be Joker that would help Edward out of his pickle? Of course, these assumptions were made seconds too soon. "Y'know, I always thought it was weird he kept condoms in his wallet when men aren't able to get pregnant."

The lawyer was left slack-jawed, but she still made a fruitless attempt to quell the ideas of the court. "Did it ever occur to you that these condoms might be meant for women so they don't get pregnant?"

Joker's expression changed to one of genuine surprise as he looked up at her. Brow furrowed, he seemed to consider the idea as though he had been thrown an outlandish but plausible theory. "You know, I've never thought of that before."

"That will be all, Mr. Cooper."

Then it was Firefly.

"Name, alias, and occupation?" the judge asked.

"Garfield Lynns, Firefly, professional arsonist," Garfield replied respectively, chilling back in his seat while Edward prayed for death back at his table.

"Mr. Lynns," the lawyer spoke, crossing her fingers as she approached. "Have you ever had any reason to believe that there is intimate relationship between the defendant, Edward Nygma, and Oswald Cobblepot?"

Firefly sat in his seat, staring blankly at her as the second passed. "Is this a trick question?" he asked suddenly, catching the public defender off guard. To this, she shook her head, and Garfield began to get an increasingly stressed look across his face. "Uh….. yeeees?" he said slowly, quickly engendering many loud gasps from the audience. "Wait, is that not the right answer? I mean no! No there's nothing between them," he corrected himself, sweat accumulating on his head quickly.

"Your honor," the prosecutor stood up, "the witness can't just change his answer in the middle of his testimony!"

Garfield stilled for a brief moment. "Is the answer maybe?" he continued, at this point shooting in the dark for an answer.

The judge gave him an incredulous look. "Mr. Lynns, you can't just answer maybe to a yes or no question," he said sternly, to which Lynns replied, "Well can I phone a friend? Jerv is here, right? He always knows the answer."

Rage hitting a peak, Riddler leapt up from his seat. "YOU MORON, THIS ISN'T A RIDDLE!"

Garfield shot up from seat in equal speed, knocking down his chair as he pointed an accusing finger at the prince of puzzles. "FUCK YOU, I'M NOT FALLING FOR THAT ONE! THIS IS A RIDDLE AND I'M GONNA ACE THIS ONE YOU FUCK!"

"CAN WE _PLEASE_ MOVE ON ALREADY?!" the prosecutor shouted above the chaos.

Khatri immediately joined the shouting. "MR. LYNNS ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION! IS EDWARD GAY?"

"FINE! YES!" Garfield screamed back. "EDWARD IS THE GAYEST MOTHER FUCKER I'VE EVER KNOWN AND HE EATS DICKS WITH HIS ASS LIKE THE HATTER DRINKS TEA! THAT'S MY FINAL ANSWER! NO TAKE BACKS! FUCK YOU!"

Edward covered his eyes, letting out a frustrated shout. "NO! THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT ANSWER!"

Firefly leapt up in victory. "HA! I FUCKING KNEW THIS WAS A RIDDLE! YOU CAN'T FOOL FIREFLY, ASSHOLES!"

Garfield fell silent as a dart suddenly hit his throat. He grunted, pulling it out in brief confusion before subsequently passing out. He was then dragged out of the courtroom. Harley hummed cheerily as she was lead into the room as Garfield was being lugged away, giving a small wave to the fallen rogue before seating herself at the witness stand. The judge had to take a few moments to rub his temples before letting out a breath and looking over at Harley. "Name, alias, and occupation?"

"Harleen Quinzel, Harley Quinn, and professional—"

_THUMP!_

The public defender looked over her notes, letting out a hesitant sigh before moving on with the question that was turning out to be a disaster of an inquiry. "Miss Quinzel," she spoke, have you ever had any reason to suspect that there is anything going on between—" _THUMP! _"—of a romantic nature?"

Harley's brow lifted in surprise, her tone a proper and reserved one when she spoke, appropriate for the situation at hand. "Romantic? Oh—" _THUMP!_ "—nothing between—" _THUMP! _"—that could ever—" _THUMP! _"—and if I'm wrong, you might as well—" _THUMP!_

The prosecutor stood up to clear his throat. "Your honor? We can't understand what the witness is saying!"

The judge looked over at the public defender. "Miss Khatri, can you please get the defendant to stop slamming his head into the table?"

"Trying!" Trisha cried, trying her damndest to hold Edward back before his head hit the table a seventh time. "May I request a five minute recess, your honor?" "Granted," the judge nodded, bringing his gavel down before Khatri dragged Edward out the entrance doors.

Edward looked defeated when he was pulled out, eyes heavily lidded with a reddening mark on his forehead that surely must have stung, but it was clear he didn't care. Trisha sighed, putting on a firm, but scolding tone. "Mr. Nygma, you need to pull yourself together," she began. "I know this seems bad, but you need to stick it out."

Edward scoffed, looking away in clear acquiescence to the circumstances. "Please, I'm ruined. They're going to find the witnesses enough to find me guilty, I'm going to Blackgate, and it will take me three months to break out as apposed to the usual two," he muttered, looking up at her.

Trisha pinched the bridge of her nose in mild frustration. "This wouldn't have happened had you, you know, told the other inmates at the asylum," she huffed, before bringing herself back to eye contact. "Nygma, I have one more witness to bring out, but I _need _you to be honest with me, alright?" She took in a deep breath to calm herself. "Edward. Are you homosexual?"

Nygma, now attentive with clear surprise, blinked slowly in visible confusion. "Excuse me?" Khatri repeated her question once more, but he still retained a puzzled expression. "I don't quite understand what you mean."

"NYGMA. _ARE. YOU. GAY?_" Trisha said slowly her voice raised so as to clearly get the message across. Even still, Edward still looked clearly confused. "Could you…" he asked steadily, "phrase it in the form of a riddle?"

Khatri blinked in visible surprise, but still decided to go through with the request. She spoke slowly as she asked, "If the circumference of the sun is three million miles, and cows live for up to twenty years, then how many men has Edward Nygma fucked in the past forty-eight months?"

Ed slowly just shook his head. "I can't understand you under that thick accent." He turner his head before he could see the steam pouring out if her ears. "It doesn't matter what I am anyhow. I'm a smart enough man to know when I've been beat."

Khatri took a moment to calm herself, letting out a steady breath. "Like I said: I still have one more witness that has to testify."

"Who?" Edward snapped in response. "What sort of man could you possibly have up your sleeve that can sway an entire courtroom _and _the judge?"

* * *

"Name, alias, and occupation?" the judge asked to the witness.

"Batman, The Dark Knight, and self-appointed vigilante defender of Gotham," Batman replied solemnly. Immediately the prosecutor stood up in outrage. "Objection, your honor!" he interrupted the trial. "He can't testify and not use his real name! It makes the testimony invalid if we don't know his true identity!"

"Your reason for not revealing your name?" the judge asked Batman, to which Batman replied, "I'm Batman." The judge nodded, bringing his gavel down with a curt "Objection overruled. Please continue."

Usually Edward would have smirked at the failed objection, but he was too busy staring slack-jawed as Khatri began her questions once more. Unsurprisingly, Batman was formal and firm with his responses, replying to all questions accordingly. "No, of all my data collected, not once have I found any information that may lead to the idea that Nygma and Cobblepot are together, other than their professional partnership," he would say, followed by, "While I can't speak on his sexuality, I can say that I have never found any evidence of a relationship with Mr. Cobblepot."

Edward just sat there, stunned, the gears in his head spinning rapidly a million miles an hour. He kept up this expression past the final questions.

"Alright, Batman," the judge nodded, looking down at his papers, "that seems to be all." He looked back at the witness stand. "You are dismiss— What?" The witness stand was empty, with Batman being gone as quickly as he had appeared. Everyone looked around for the Dark Knight in bewilderment, but Commissioner Gordon just shook his head from the back row. "Don't worry, you get used to it," he sighed, taking a swig from his flask.

* * *

Edward arrived back at the bus, with the rest of the inmates sitting lazily around the stuffy vehicle. Garfield was especially lazy, given that he was drugged and had be strapped into his seat so he didn't fly around the moving bus. The guard brought Nygma inside, and immediately Joker sprung to life in his seat. "Eddie!" he cried cheerfully, tilting his head in a cocky manner as his eyes narrowed pervertedly. "Sooo? How did it gooooo~?"

Edward threw a sharp glare at Joker, but ended up giving into the smile that crossed his face. "It went well," he replied formally. "My public defender actually did her job correctly for once and got the right character witnesses The charges have been dropped due to lack of evidence. They found no evidence in my personal computer because it had almost completely wiped, strangely enough; I can't be charged for the same crime twice thanks to Double Jeopardy, and it looks like I'm staying in Arkham for a little while more. All in all, things are coming up Riddler."

Joker pouted a bit, clearly disappointed, but didn't let it show as he once again found another topic to throw his way. "Well I bet it was my testimony that got you through," Joker snickered. "Pretty reliable, wasn't I? I'd say I at least deserve a thank you, Eddie!"

Riddler smiled softly, approached the grinning clown slowly, leaned in, and said in a gentle voice, "Go die in a hole, Joker." As he was about to take a seat by Jervis, he noticed Harley waving frantically out the window of the bus, which was difficult given her chained wrists. Edward, followed her eyes until he saw Oswald about to be boarded into his own prison bus after they finished stuffing Bane in. Realizing he had only a small window of time, he looked back at the guard who had guided him to the bus. "May I…?" The guard got the message, considered it for a second, before nodding and allowing him out of the bus.

"Oswald!" Cobblepot stopped in silent surprise as his name was called out, turning back to see Edward being led by a guard to his position. "Edward?" he hummed. "I heard the charges were dropped. Congratulations."

Edward smirked, that ego once again taking over. "Of course!" he replied proudly. "How could they not see through the intelligence of a mind such as mine? Obviously they were swayed by my testimony." He noticed Oswald let a small smile slip, giving Edward the room to boast as much as he wanted. Nygma paused in his self-congratulations, turning the praise onto Oswald then. "And yours, of course." He let out a small, curt sigh. "Listen, I'm sorry I got you into this. I really appreciate you doing this for me and getting the other Blackgate rogues to defend me." A genuine smile crossed his visage. "I'm guessing you'll want something in return once we're out?"

Penguin just chuckled, shaking his head as he reached forward and grabbed Edward's hand in his smaller ones. "Edward, my friend," he said simply, patting the back of his hand, "consider this a favor. I expect nothing in return. I act as a sign of our mutual partnership and in knowing that you would do the same for me." He had to pause to grimace to himself. "Let's hope it never comes to that, of course. One time was enough."

Before he could let go of Nygma's hand, Joker had somehow made it past the guards in the bus and had jumped out the entrance just to shout out, "Geeze boys, we only just got out of the courthouse! Can't you wait five minutes before we're forced back in again?"

Edward scoffed, rolling his eyes as Cobblepot did the same and let go of his hand. "What are you talking about?" Nygma spat, "The trial is over! The papers are done. Now I'm allowed to sleep with Oswald."

Oswald nodded in agreement. "Rightly said, Ed— wait. Wha—?" Before his bewilderment could leave his mouth, Edward grabbed his friend by either cheek, leaned down, and kissed him in front of everyone.

Joker's expression fell immediately into one of shock as everyone around was just stunned. It was about two seconds before Edward pulled away, giving Oswald a pat on the shoulder. "I'll see you on the outside, Oswald," he smiled, turning to his guard. "Let's get back to Arkham. I don't want to miss dinner."

As Edward was taken away, Penguin stood there and watched, shocked and a little confused, before a stunned smile spread his lips. "Well then..." he said simply, before boarding his own bus.

Nygma sat beside Jervis, who looked absolutely befuddled at the entire situation. Joker was being loaded on, still processing what had just happened, while the Riddler seemed oddly content at the moment. Tetch opened and closes his mouth a few times, clearly unsure of where to start, before beginning with, "Edward?" The make in question looked down at him with a "hmm?" Jervis searched for the words in his mind, but only came up with "I'm confused."

Edward smirked, looking over Jervis' head and out the window. "Of course you are. That's the point of a riddle, Tetch," he replied, his eyes catching Oswald sitting in his own seat, watching a small grin creep up onto the bird's face. "I can't blame you. I can't quite figure it out myself to be honest," he admitted, before tearing his eyes away. He had turned just in time to miss Oswald look out the window and back at him, looking content despite the situation. Who could blame him? This was a weird day.


End file.
